A Sister's Love
by historybuff1861
Summary: A case brings back haunting memories and reveals a long lost sister for Captain Victoria Gates. When the Captain is abducted, it is up to this sister, who is a new homicide Detective unsure of her abilities, along with Beckett, the boys, and a handsome British detective to discover the motive behind the abduction and find the Captain before time runs out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an AU story I have had in my head for a while concerning Captain Gates. I have just always had the feeling that there was more to her character than her 'Iron Gates' persona, and this was well before 6X19 aired. Beckett and the boys will all play minor roles in this story but it is mostly centered on Victoria Gates and my OC, Jasmine Wilson. Please feel free to review, but try to be polite as this is my first fanfic. I will do my best to update weekly, but as I am a college student so weekly updates may or may not happen. I do, however, fully intend to finish this story sooner or later. I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own.**

**Disclaimer****: Andrew Marlowe owns it all. Otherwise we would have met the Captain's husband and kids long ago. **

Prologue

I give a final tug to the bullet-proof vest provided to me by the London Royal police and look up at the abandoned warehouse. A sense of foreboding and dread fills me, gnawing at the pit of my stomach. This all seemed just too easy.

"You ok?" a voice behind me asks.

I turned to face Alec. The handsome young Detective had done a lot for me so far to help me find Victoria and her abductor. "Don't you feel like we are missing something here?" I ask with concern.

"Like what?"

"Something key that pulls all of this together. This all seems too easy, like the killer is playing us." I turn back to look at the old warehouse, its shattered windows and crumbling mortar making it appear to have come right out of a horror movie.

"Relax Jasmine," Alec said in attempt to reassure me. "This is the best lead we have had so far. We will find your sister, alive."

"I hope so," I mutter more to myself than Alec. I rub my stomach in attempt to ease my anxiety and dread at the possibility of not finding Victoria alive. I then follow Alec to join the circle of uniforms and detectives that are gathering around Captain Jenkins, awaiting instructions on how to proceed with the raid.

"Attention, please", the Captain called the attention of his homicide unit. "We want to exercise extreme caution when entering the premises. The killer might have Captain Gates hidden anywhere inside. I want you all to break into teams of eight and conduct a methodical, careful search floor by floor."

Alec and I listen as the Captain assigned the teams. We then head over to our team leader, Detective Alexandria Peterson. I have come to like the older women in the short time I have been working with the London police. She has a similar, albeit slightly more experienced mindset as I do that helps us work well together.

"We have the fourth floor," she announced as the rest of the team members gathered around. "When we get up there, I want all of us to split into teams of two and for each to take one of the wings, which are divided into north, south, east, and west, understood?"

We all nod, and then begin checking our guns and rounds as we wait for the signal to move into position. I slide my piece out of its holster, double checking to make sure that it was loaded. I want nothing to go wrong when we enter the building. As we move into position, I feel Alec squeeze my shoulder as he slides behind me, trying to reassure me.

The first team enters the building with each team following, with my team of course bringing up the rear. Everything goes smoothly and methodically in a manner that only well-trained cops and detectives are capable of pulling off. The first team breaks off and starts quietly searching the first floor, being as careful as possible not to alert anyone who may be hiding of their presence.

I make a left and take to the stars behind the others. As re reach the second and third floors, the others break off and start searching in the same fashion as the team on floor one did.

After what seems like an eternity, we finally reach the fourth floor and start breaking off into teams of two and going down separate wings as we were instructed. I turn and head down the west corridor, with Alec following right behind me.

My boots eco as they thud eerily along the concrete floors. We move down the enormous corridor, turning into the first massive room we come to on our right. We scan the room quickly and find nothing but old wood rotting in the corner and sawdust lining the walls. I start to back out, but Alec grabs my arm, stopping me.

"What?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Over there", he points to the wood pile. At first, I don't see what he is pointing at, then I notice it. At the top of the pile, barely visible, is the opening of a crawl space. As I go over to look more closely, I notice that the wood had been moved fairly recently and there was a set of footprints leading both to and from the pile.

Alec and I don't need to say anything to each other before we start moving the wood. We try to do it as quietly as possible, not knowing what we will find at the other end of the crawlspace or if whoever was here planned to come back. A splinter embeds itself in my palm but I yank it out, ignoring the pain.

Finally, we succeed in moving all the wood to the side to fully reveal the crawl space. Alec wordlessly gets down on his hands and knees and starts to make his way through the cramped space. I am at his heels. When he arrives at the other side, I hear him gasp.

"What is it Alec? What do you see?" I ask urgently. He does not answer my question. Wordlessly, he stands up, allowing me to make my way through.

As I stand up in the small room lit overhead by a single florescent light bulb, I swallow hard at the sight that lay before me. There was blood splattering the walls and floor in places, not enough blood to suggest that someone had been killed, but enough to say that they had been hurt or tortured.

However, that was not the thing that drew my attention the most. For crumpled in the corner of the room lay a grey object, with something shining lying on top of it. Alec goes over to examine the opjects, and I swallow hard as he crouches down and picked them up his gloved fingertips.

In one hand, he hold a familiar grey blazer, the one Victoria was wearing before she was kidnapped. In the other he holds a badge bearing the emblem of the NYPD and the word Captain directly underneath.

For the first time since I have met Alec, I see him look angry. A stormy look crosses his face as he droppes both items back onto the floor and walks over to me, embracing me.

"We will find her Jasmine," he growles into my ear. "Come hell or high water, we will find her."

I can only nod in response, forcing back my own anger at what Johnathan Gates had probably put Victoria through. We will find her; I have no doubt of that.

The question is though; will we find the Captain of the 12th, my newfound half-sister, alive or dead? Come hell or high water, I will find her alive, I have to. I also intend to put a bullet through Gate's head in the process.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. If I did I would have reached an agreement with ABC for a seventh season by now.**

**I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own.**

Chapter 1

I toss the phone records aside for our latest murder vic on my desk at the 12th. Sighing, I rub my eyes in attempt to ease the strain that staring at records for the past two hours has produced. My name is Jasmine Wilson, and I am a new addition to Detective Beckett's team at the precinct, beating her by being the youngest to make detective at 27.

The past two months I have been here, I have worked hard trying to prove myself to the team and Captain Gates. Yet, I still feel inadequate compared to the type of cop my dad had been. He died during the 9-11 attacks when the south tower fell. I imagine he was helping ordinary people escape up until the end. Ordinary people who had the hell they had no idea of the sheer hell they would be facing that day.

My dad is the reason I became a cop in attempt to live up to his legacy. However, I am not sure I will ever be able to do so. He was always so selfless, putting others in his job first, and was essentially a model officer. Despite my doubts, Mom was proud of me the evening I visited her and told her I made detective. She thought it was quite an accomplishment to be pleased of at my age.

I got the promotion because of my ability to think outside the box like a seasoned veteran, according to all my commanding officers. Despite this, I know that I am young, and have a tendency to be reckless. When it comes to following a lead, I tend to race ahead of the others. Once in a while this causes me to wind up in a situation without any backup. Yet I am always able to think, or fight my way out of it. I am good with a gun, and got top marks in my class at the academy for hand to hand combat. Despite this, rushing ahead is a habit I am trying to desperately curtail, because one of these days I won't be so lucky, and will wind up being either busted down to traffic or shot for my reckless behavior.

Javi's voice comes from behind me, breaking me free from my thoughts. "So I take it nothing popped from the phone records?" the Hispanic, whom I have come to regard as a brother in my short time here, asks.

"No," I answer, swerving around in my chair to face him. "Everything is all run-of-the-mill based on what we know about the vic so far."

"Same goes for her financials. This gal seemed to be an average, middle class citizen like the rest of us."

"The wounds she received from her attacker seem to suggest otherwise," Ryan said, coming up to his desk with an espresso in hand.

I get up and walk over to the murder board by Beckett's desk, my black boots softly thudding on the hard precinct floor. I study the pictures of the body of Monica Sanders, young women only a couple years younger than me. We found her body in an ally way up town. Her throat had been slit, but what were more intriguing were the bruises that covered her body, ranging from mild to ghastly, as well as the welts on her back. The poor women had obviously been beaten before being killed, the question was why, and by whom.

"We have a person of interest, guys," Beckett announced, coming into the bullpen from the elevator and slinging her light grey blazer onto her desk chair. A certain bestselling author was notably absent.

"Where is Castle?" Ryan is the first of the three of us to ask.

"Writing, or at least that's what he should be doing. Gina is breathing down his neck for another two chapters for his latest Nikki Heat, which happens to be past due."

The boys and I exchange smirks, imagining the protests Beckett must have received from Castle this morning when she left the loft.

"Tell me that you have something useful, Detective," Captain Gates says, coming over from her office to join us.

"Yes, sir, as a matter of fact, we do," Beckett told the Captain, pinning a sketch on the board of a black male who appeared to be in his mid-50's I cock my head to the side, studying the sketch. The Man did not appear to be a killer, yet if there is one thing I learned in my short time as a homicide detective; it was that everyone has the potential to kill.

"This man was witnessed in the alleyway the afternoon before our vic was killed. Witnesses say that the man looked aggressive and seemed to be staking out the alleyway for some purpose. I was going to circulate the sketch to see if we could get an ID and possibly…"

"There is no need to go to the trouble, detective," Gates broke in. We all turn to face her, and I pick up on how pale she seems to be.

"That man…that man is my father, Johnathan Gates," our captain, who we are all so used to seeing with her usual iron-like composure, gasps.

"I take it that you don't have the best relationship with him, sir," I probe gently.

Gates makes brief eye contact with me. "No," she answered. "I have not seen him since I was about eight-years-old." She takes a long look at the grey floor of the precinct, then back at me. "I will give you more details, but in my office."

As the Captain turns to head back to her office, I was taken aback by how she had looked at me. There was something in her eyed, some deep past hurt that I could not identify, that made me feel compassionate towards her.

After glancing at Beckett, who nods, I grab a pad and pen from my desk and head for the Captain's office. Upon entering, I notice Gates at her desk, absently playing with a pen and gazing out the window upon the busting city of New York. She looks so sad and lonely just sitting there, the total opposite of how composed she usually is. I finally speak up, interrupting her from her thoughts.

"Sir?"

Gates turns her attention to me. "Have a seat, detective", she says, motioning to the chair in front of her desk. She then sighs deeply, and I can tell she is trying to gather the courage before opening up about her past, more importantly her father.

"I was a child of rape. I recall my mother raising me until I was about four, when my father abducted me. After that, I lived in constant terror until I was about seven. The slightest indiscretion could set off the man's temper."

The Captain paused, trying desperately to maintain some control of her composure and the emotions that threated to overwhelm her as she recalled those days before continuing. "He beat me on numerous occasions with his belt, which is probably what happened with our vic."

I pause in my note taking. I have more questions to ask the Captain relating to our suspect and how she thinks he is connected in the murder, but I push those questions aside for the moment as something more significant occupies my mind. My mother was raped by an African-American man when she was about 15. She gave birth to a daughter whom she named Victoria, who was kidnapped by the man who raped mom when she was about four.

It all seems too good to be true, but too many aspects of this are adding up to make it just a coincidence. As I study the Captain across the desk, I realize how much of an uncanny resemblance we have. Despite having different colored skin, we share some of the same facial features, as well as the dark brown hair, though mine is a few shades lighter than hers. Could it really be that my long lost half-sister is the women who has been my commanding officer for the past two months?

**A/N: I know, yet another cliff hanger. I will do my best to try not to end every chapter with one. I would like to thank both of the people who reviewed the last chapter, especially the reviewer who corrected me on some details about the London Police. I will definitely keep them in mind for future chapters. Please review if you are so inclined. Constructive criticism is appreciated, at it helps me improve as a writer, yet please no flames.**


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